Control freak 2/2Pairing: Dean/SamPlot? What plot? Plots run screaming from here. A direct follow up to "In the wee hours".This is unbetad. Mind your eyes and beware of grammatical horrors.

The first stab of tongue had Sam keening and panting. This was so disgusting and so hot he couldn't get his head around it, this thing Dean was doing. Kissing it better. Yeah, right. Sam caught a glimpse of himself, reflected in the mirror by the door, saw Dean's head behind him, and then Dean stabbed his tongue in again, straight into Sam's ass, and he could fucking feel Dean hum. Feel it on the inside, sending spikes of electricity through him, making his cock even harder and he had nothing to rub against, ass in the air as he had. Sam keened again and tried to push down and up at the same time, but Dean held his hips in an iron grip and Sam could only wriggle a little and make more stupid noises.

Dean pulled his tongue out with a wet smacking sound and looked up at Sam, "You alright?" he asked and Sam could only whine and spread his legs even wider, pushing up even more until Dean put his mouth back and began sucking on the tender flesh between his ass-cheeks. He inched a finger inside and puppy licked around the hole, small fluttering touches with his tongue and Sam thought he would surely die if Dean didn't do more, or less or just grabbed his cock. The reflection in the mirror caught his eye again, the view of himself, with sweat matted hair plastered against his forehead, face flushed red and his mouth open, Dean's head bobbing behind him, Dean still humming as he licked and the finger and the tongue moved in at once. He was so close to coming but Dean wouldn't let him and he needed just a touch more and he would be coming and Dean stopped and pulled back and left him empty. He kept the grip on Sam's hip and their eyes met in the mirror.

"This is where you beg, Sam. Beg me to let you come." Dean's voice had that rasping note to it again and Sam's cock twitched at the sound. It felt like his spine was melting, his brain was frying and he was there again, where he just wanted to spread open and hand over. Dean must have seen it in his face because he smiled that feral smile again. "Come on, lemme hear it."

Sam shook his head, no way he was begging. "You want it, Sam? You want it, you have to ask for it." Dean stroke his fingers down Sam's cleft, over his aching balls, over his cock, thumb gently rubbing the head. "You thought I wouldn't get you for what you did today? Bitching like that, giving me hell".

He took a grip of the hard flesh and squeezed gently and Sam almost choked. "You're such a control freak, little brother, and look at you now. All hungry for it and you can't have it unless you ask." The hand began to move on Sam, stroking him just right. "You just have to say please and I'll give it to you, promise."

It took him a moment to find his voice, but when he did, Sam begged. He said all the things Dean wanted to hear and then some and Dean dove back in, stabbed his tongue back into Sam's hole and hummed. Sam had, to his knowledge, never screamed when he came before, but now he did. A long, wailing howl, punctuated by the spasms racking him as he spurted onto the sheet. He collapsed in a heap and Dean crawled up over him, jerking himself, licking Sam where he reached. Sam twisted the best he could and met tongue with tongue and Dean's face was wet with saliva and Sam could taste himself on Dean. Hot, wet tongue fucking his mouth and then Dean was coming all over him, shooting over his chest and belly in wethot, thick strands.

"Dean, get off me. Heavy." Sam grunted and pushed at the dead weight lying on top of him."You're bitching again." Dean's voice was muffled against Sam's throat and he didn't move."Off! Your bony knuckles are in my stomach. Move."

"I don't have bony knuckles. Stop whining." Dean rolled off Sam and landed beside him, slinging an arm over Sam's chest to keep him from falling off the bed. The thought was tempting, to give Dean just the tiniest of nudges in the right direction but Sam decided against it. This was nice, in lack of better words. Dean was warm, solid and his body pressed against Sam's, told him that they still were good.

Sam sighed, so much for basking in bliss. "What are you talking about? Learnt what?"

"You know, to not try to be mouthy." Dean grinned at him and before Sam could react, Dean rolled on top of him again and jabbed his fingers into Sam's sides. "You know what happens, little brother. Tickle!"

Sam shouted and tried to wriggle Dean off of him, but fit as he was, Dean clamped his legs on the outside of Sam's and hung on with his fingers firmly planted where it tickled the most.

"I can't believe you're doing this," Sam managed to wheeze out. "Son of a bitch!" With a buck that almost landed Dean on the floor, Sam got lose and turned the tables. "You've forgotten that I'm bigger than you now." He wrestled Dean face down on the bed and forced his hands down over his head. "I can twist you in a knot if I wanna."

Dean laughed under him, still squirming. "Yeah? Gimme your best shot then. Or is there something else you'd rather do?" He pushed his ass against Sam's crotch.

Sam froze. He hadn't thought that far, things had been spinning to fast. But Dean's obvious offer sent a spike of want through him, coiling tight in his stomach and making his cock jump to attention. Dean laughed again. "Sammy, Sammy, you horn-dog. Up and running again." He rubbed back again and groaned when Sam's cock slid between his thighs, pushing against his balls. "Go for it, what's stopping you?"

"Can't you just shut up, dude?" Sam was busy controlling his breathing and trying not to come from only the sweet rub against Dean's ass. He didn't have the time to yap back at him.

"Come oooon," Dean began rolling his hips, back and forth, up and down, small minute moves that set Sam on fire. The tiny movements were more teasing than the outright rubbing and Sam's mind blanked out, the only thing existing was to aim and shoot. He tilted his pelvis back, trying to zoom in and Dean laughed again. Not a mean laugh, more like eager and waiting and wanting and Sam didn't know what to do with his hands, holding Dean down, or how to get where he wanted to. He settled for humping Dean's ass instead.

"Damn it, Sam. Stop teasing, what are you doing?" Den sounded flustered and that rasping voice was back. Like Sam needed that to make him even hotter. He had no blood whatsoever left in his upstairs brain, the downstairs ruled totally, making it impossible to think straight.

"Wait, wait, I don't…I've never…I don't know what to do."

And just like that, Dean stilled under him. "Don't worry, dude, I do," he said. He turned his head and glanced over his shoulder, licking his bottom lip. Sam hadn't thought it possible but to see the pink tip of Dean's tongue, wet and glistening, slip over the redswollen lip made him reeling. "Lemme up," Dean whispered, "lemme up and I'll show you."

Sam let go and Dean was up, rummaging through his bag. He returned within the second, stretching out on his side, leaning on one elbow. "You want me to fix this or do you…" He stopped and looked at Sam, "I think I'll fix it, yeah?" Sam nodded, his brain was still shut down.

Dean flipped the cap of the small tube open and poured some onto his fingers. "I got you, don't worry, you'll be back in charge soon." Sam nodded again. Dean hitched his leg up over Sam's belly and reached behind himself. "I'm stretching myself now, you're fucking huge, little brother. Gonna hurt if you just stick it in." He licked his lips again. "But it's gonna feel so good, have all that hard meat in me. I bet you go slow first, make me feel every inch, make me beg for it. Make my hole stretch around you 'cause there's no way fingers gonna be enough to get me ready."

Sam just had to feel, had to know what was happening back there, what made Dean squeeze his eyes shut and moan deep and rumbling. He reached around and caught Dean's hand, felt around the fingers that were moving inside, slowly out and back in. And then he pushed, fingers slipping inside next to Dean's and Dean groaned again, not kissing but licking Sam's mouth. "Now, c'mon, do it," he stuttered out on the next push in. Sam pulled their fingers out and Dean's hand was on him, wet and slick. He reached to lick at Sam's lips again, "Twist me in a knot."

Hotter than anything before, tighter, Dean rippled around him and Sam had to think of ice bergs and dead things to stop him from coming apart. He tried to go slow, but Dean began begging before he even got half way in. Sam's hips snapped forward and he had follow, helplessly. Dean fairly howled when Sam sunk in, all the way, flush against him, so close he could feel Dean's balls stroke his own. He could feel Dean's hand move on himself and hear the slippery sound of skin on skin, mingled with the sloppy sound his cock made when he pushed back into Dean again and the banging when the bed hit the wall.

Sam had never really thought about how hard Dean was, all muscle, rippling just under his skin when he rocked back and forth on Sam's cock. He could see the muscles in his back twist and tense and the tendons in his neck standing out, Dean's right arm bunch and contract when he jerked himself.

He didn't have to time to think, to warn, he looked down and saw himself buried, moving, thrusting and Dean's stretched hole and Dean kept talking and cursing in rambling litany and Sam's head blew off.

They landed on their sides, Sam pulling Dean with him when he collapsed. He felt the last ripples in Dean's body resonate through him, all the way to the core, knowing that he had made Dean feel like that, sound like that and he couldn't stop himself from laughing.

"What's so funny?" Dean sounded groggy, just like Sam felt.

"I dunno, just…you know."

Dean took Sam's hand and pulled it up to his mouth. The kiss on his knuckles was unexpected and made Sam tingle even more. "Yeah, I think I do."

They lay there, not moving, breathing together.

"Have you stopped bitching now, control freak?" Dean's voice yanked Sam up from the blue, wavy depth he had been basking in.

Sam buried his nose in the nape of Dean's neck and inhaled. "Dumb ass," he whispered.